
Nocturnum Collective
An anthology audio series of genre-bending tales steeped in mystery, suspense, and horror. Each season presents a new story, unraveling folkloric sagas grounded in reality where would-be history meets elements of the supernatural, the astonishing, or the uncanny. Transporting listeners into wondrous and dark sectors of space and time, whether in search of the sinister things that go bump in the night, uncovering secrets of the decaying unknown, or gazing into the striking depths and torments of the human condition. The paths explored will conjure powerful, remarkable, and lasting images that will stick with you…Enter the NOCTURNUM COLLECTIVE
*Headphones are strongly suggested for the best audio experience.
Nocturnum Collective
The Water's Edge - Chapter Three
During a robbery, Steve stumbles across something mysterious inside an old safe. But the contents are far more dangerous than he could have ever expected, putting his already compromised life into further peril.
Transcripts - https://www.NocturnumCollective.com/watersedgebonus
*Headphones are strongly suggested for the best audio experience.
NOCTURNUM COLLECTIVE – SEASON THREE
The Water’s Edge – Chapter Three
Written by Karl White
NARRATOR (OPEN): There are constants that endure in the known world. Space, time, energy, matter. Physical and scientific laws constraining us to this existence. But there's a current below the surface. Contrary to the explainable, it's where the unknown resides, where meaning and form collide with the abstract, where shadows hold dominion…Enter the Nocturnum Collective.
(MUSIC – opening sequence)
NARRATOR: And now, The Water's Edge, Chapter Three. Written by Karl White.
(MUSIC – delta blues)
NARRATOR: A group of men make a dangerous trek deep through the swamps of Florida. They trudge across primitive terrain, through thick mud and muck…These wetlands are uncharted. This place, unforgiving…Their purpose is only known to one of them, Harold, a New Englander by birth and an outcast both to this alien world, and the company he keeps. Harold is an industrialist by trade. An educated man of great wealth. He's hired guides and strong backs. Choosing men of meager means, threadbare, or of ill-repute, to help show him the way through this endless wet expanse. For Harold is searching for a hidden treasure of sorts, rumored to exist somewhere in these wilds. Though he’s the only one with this knowledge. But it’s not doubloons, or jewels, or buried gold, he’s looking for. This treasure has more value than money. It offers the chance to save someone dear to him...But this mire holds more peril than anyone realizes, as the object of Harold’s desires, brings out the worst in men. As possessing knowledge of its whereabouts means untold fortune and power. And while in this swamp, there’s danger at every turn, if Harold is successful in finding what he’s looking for, he plans to protect the secret at all costs. And with a pair of six-shooters at his side, the plan is, Harold will be the only one returning.
(MUSIC – tense drone)
NARRATOR: On a cloudy night...Hidden in the heart of New York City, an old, palatial château sits at the dead-end of a mansion-lined boulevard on some forgotten street near the water. This is Herbert Hill’s estate. The property is massive, surrounded by a large iron fence and manicured hedgerows. The house can barely be seen from the road. What is visible looks old and expensive…An armed guard, Charlie, walks the perimeter, on his rounds.
(SFX – electronic gate)
NARRATOR: The front gate to the property opens, and a dark sedan pulls out. Charlie waves to the occupant as it drives away…Parked inconspicuously, half a block up is one of Joe’s unmarked catering vans. Inside, Joe sits in the driver’s seat decked out in dark blue work coveralls. Next to him, Steve in all black. He told Jane he was going to a cancer support group meeting in Brooklyn. But he lied. And here he is, just like old times, surveilling a target before a job…Joe squirms a little in his seat.
JOE: I’m more nervous than I thought I’d be.
STEVE: Same...you don’t have to do this.
JOE: You kidding? We’re doing this for the right reasons this time.
NARRATOR: On the same page, Steve unfurls a small blueprint of the estate.
STEVE: I did some digging. Far as I can tell, there’s a safe that was built into a wall when the house was constructed Pre-World War One. It’s right here...
NARRATOR: He points to room on the plans, in a large study near the rear of the house.
STEVE: Eight years ago, a contractor filed a permit with the city engineer for a big reno. Records indicated the safe was still listed and part of the design…The dagger’s gotta be in there.
NARRATOR: Joe's brow furrows.
JOE: I ain’t doubting your ability, but you haven’t exactly been in the room to put eyes on this thing. Can you even get it open is a big question mark?
NARRATOR: But Steve gives a confident smile.
STEVE: There’s a serial number for it on file, appears it’s an old McNeal, three-wheel. Those things are as durable as they come, but notoriously easy to get into with a keen ear.
JOE: And how’s your hearing these days, geezer?
STEVE: Good enough.
JOE: Okay. What’s the alarm situation?
STEVE: The Balian’s tell me this Hill guy’s old school. No cameras on site. And I spotted a box for one of those old bell burglar alarms from the street, those are analog. So nothing hi-tech from what I can see…Now see over there...
NARRATOR: Steve points out the windshield to a utility box across the street from the estate.
STEVE: The houses on this street are set up on their own power grids, north and south.
JOE: Which I’m gonna disable.
STEVE: Lights out, I’ll make my way to the house. The whole thing, in and out, should take eight minutes, tops.
JOE: What about our friend out front?
STEVE: He walks the perimeter every thirty minutes. Not sure about anybody inside.
JOE: Why’s this Hill character got an armed guard?
STEVE: He keeps valuables on the property. Doesn’t trust outside security, so he hired his own goons.
JOE: How do you know all this?
STEVE: I’ve been casing the place before and after work for a week now...
NARRATOR: Pulling the sun-visor down, Steve looks at himself in the vanity mirror, putting in an earpiece radio. He hands Joe one.
STEVE: ...And I went to the City Clerk’s office. It’s amazing what you find if you just take the time to look.
JOE: Whadd’ya know, you grew a brain in the joint.
STEVE: Street smarts only get you so far, am I right?
(SFX – van door open/close)
NARRATOR: Steve opens the door and gets out. He remains at the window, not wanting to say it, but feeling like he has to.
STEVE: Last time we did this, shit didn’t go our way, communication broke down. Let’s not repeat the past.
NARRATOR: Joe nods in agreement...
(SFX – radio static)
NARRATOR: Fiddling with his earpiece, Steve turns away.
STEVE: (over radio) Can you hear me?
JOE: Loud and clear.
NARRATOR: Steve looks back at Joe.
STEVE: If things get hairy, cut and run. Don’t worry about me.
JOE: Same for you. Good luck.
NARRATOR: Walking off, Steve disappears into the darkness.
(SFX – branches moving)
NARRATOR: On the outskirts of the estate, Steve settles into the space between the hedgerow and the iron fence. Waiting.
(SFX – footsteps on pavement)
NARRATOR: Across the street, dressed like a city worker, Joe saunters to the utility box. He easily cuts the lock off, opening the cover.
(SFX – rusty hinge)
NARRATOR: With a flashlight from his work-belt, he looks for the electrical switch running to the south side of the block.
JOE: You ready?
STEVE: (over radio) Do it.
NARRATOR: Joe flips the switch.
(SFX – power down)
NARRATOR: From Steve’s position, the lights in the house go dark.
JOE: (over radio) Clock’s starting.
NARRATOR: Not wasting another moment, Steve jumps up and pulls himself up the iron bars, a benefit from doing all those push-ups in prison. Steve sprints across the yard.
(SFX – footsteps running)
NARRATOR: Reaching the back the estate, Steve’s winded, his ailing lungs, burning. He struggles not to cough.
(Steve breathing hard)
NARRATOR: At the back door, he pulls a lock pick set. It takes him all of ten seconds to gain entry -- he’s still got it.
(SFX – quiet door open)
NARRATOR: Inside, Steve stays low and alert as he sneaks into a long corridor.
JOE: (over radio) Forty seconds in.
NARRATOR: Steve’s about to respond when a flashlight streaks across the wall. Perry, another of Hill’s guards, is securing the house due to the power outage -- Ducking into a recessed alcove in the hallway, Steve hits a vase on a pedestal. It begins to WOBBLE.
(SFX – vase wobbles)
NARRATOR: He quickly grabs the vessel to silence it and keep it from falling...he’s quiet, but Perry stops, staring down the long portico with his flashlight. He listens, but it’s nothing. So, he moves on.
PERRY: (into radio) South Hall is clear.
NARRATOR: Once it’s safe, Steve navigates the shadows to the study…When he enters, he turns on his headlamp, glancing around the room. The small beam of light reveals a room lined with bookshelves, filled with thick volumes and small curios. Near the far wall is a seemingly unmovable oak desk. Peering around, the room doesn’t look like the treasure trove the Balian’s made it out to be. Nevertheless, Steve gets to work. He sheds his backpack and pulls down an oil painting hanging behind the desk to reveal an old dial wall safe.
STEVE: I’ve located the safe.
JOE: (over radio) Two minutes.
NARRATOR: Using a stethoscope, Steve listens as he twists the dial.
(SFX – dial turning)
NARRATOR: Outside, at the utility box, Joe sits, pantomiming as if he’s working.
(SFX – footsteps approach)
NARRATOR: Someone is approaching. It’s the guard, Charlie.
CHARLIE: Hey, whaddya think you’re doing?
NARRATOR: Joe looks up, shining his flashlight in Charlie’s face.
JOE: What’s it look like, Einstein? I’m changing out a relay switch.
CHARLIE: Who you with?
JOE: Jesus Christ, white van, work clothes…Con-Ed sent a notice two weeks ago.
CHARLIE: You got ID? Work orders?
JOE: Who are you, neighborhood watch?
CHARLIE: Don’t bust my balls, I’m just doing my job.
JOE: Me too. And the longer you bother me, the longer it’s gonna take.
(SFX – sting)
NARRATOR: Back in the study, Steve hears the last CLICK of the dial, the lock is disengaged. He pulls the handle. The safe opens...
(SFX – safe door opens)
NARRATOR: ...But much to his dismay, the only contents are a few manila file folders...and that’s it. No dagger…Panicked, Steve frantically glances around the room, looking for the heirloom.
(SFX – sting)
NARRATOR: At the utility box, Charlie stands over Joe, not giving in. Joe finally sighs, reaching into his shirt pocket, pulling out a doctored work order.
JOE: There, happy?
NARRATOR: Charlie snatches the paper.
CHARLIE: I’m calling this in.
JOE: Best of luck to you, Baby Huey. Hope you know how to work a phone.
NARRATOR: As Charlie storms off, he goes back to pretending to work…But when Charlie is out of earshot, Joe looks at his watch.
(SFX – sting)
NARRATOR: Back in the study Steve quietly but quickly goes through the desk, opening drawers, searching for the elusive artifact.
JOE: (over radio) You’re right at five minutes. But you need to speed it up, they’re just about onto us.
STEVE: We’ve got a problem...
NARRATOR: Steve moves on from the desk, scanning the bookshelves.
STEVE: ...The dagger ain’t in the safe.
JOE: (over radio) It’s probably right under your freakin’ nose.
NARRATOR: Steve’s gone around the entire room and comes to the end of the bookshelves. He doesn’t know where else to look…Glancing back at the desk, his headlamp picks up a shine.
(SFX – shine)
NARRATOR: He scurries back and in the middle of the desk, and in the most obvious of places, sits the Balian’s dagger, stuck in an envelope, used as a letter opener. He breathes a big sigh of relief.
STEVE: Found it.
NARRATOR: With dagger in hand, Steve stuffs it in his backpack. Now it’s his turn to steal anything of value…But as he looks around, there’s nothing that really seems worth stealing.
STEVE: There’s nothing else here to grab. It just looks like a bunch of worthless nicknacks.
JOE: (over radio) What about in the safe?
STEVE: Files.
JOE: (over radio) Just take ‘em, there might be something.
NARRATOR: Steve steps back to the coffer and nabs the files. As he does something catches his eye...
(SFX – sting)
NARRATOR: In the very back of the safe is a small seam on the left side of the wall. With the slightest pressure, it pops open -- It’s a FALSE BACK, concealing a secret compartment. Inside is an old, worn box. Steve goes for it, but the instant he grabs it, a pressure alarm sounds.
(SFX – bell alarm)
STEVE: Shit! Pack it up, we gotta go.
NARRATOR: Steve shoves the files and box into his backpack.
(SFX – distant bell alarm)
NARRATOR: Even in the still of the night Joe can hear the alarm all the way outside. He doesn’t even bother closing the utility box as he hastily gathers his stuff to retreat.
(SFX – sting)
NARRATOR: Inside the Hill Estate, Steve peers out from the study, making sure the coast is clear. He dashes down the hall -- suddenly, a light flashes behind him. Steve’s silhouette is painted on the wall as he opens the door.
PERRY: Freeze!
NARRATOR: But Steve doesn’t comply as he darts out into the darkness.
(SFX – sting)
NARRATOR: Heading to the van, Joe keeps looking over his shoulder.
STEVE: (over radio) I’ve been made.
JOE: Just breath, keep your head about you. We’re gonna get through this. I’ll be waiting.
(SFX – van door open)
NARRATOR: Joe tosses his stuff in the van. But before he can climb up, the sound of a gun being cocked, behind him.
(SFX – gun cocked)
CHARLIE: Hands up, dickhead.
NARRATOR: Joe has no choice but to obey...and he slowly turns to see Charlie, gun in hand, finger on the trigger.
JOE: What gives?
CHARLIE: Going somewhere?
JOE: I need something outta my van. There ain’t no need for hostility.
CHARLIE: Bullshit. Don’t you fucking move.
(SFX – running)
NARRATOR: With adrenaline pushing him, and Perry in pursuit, Steve scales the fence, pulling himself up and over. Landing on his feet, Steve sees Joe across the road, hands in the air, Charlie pointing his gun...Steve’s stuck, not sure what to do or where to go. But behind him, Perry, out of breath and not interested in trying to get over the fence, spots Steve in the hedgerow. So he aims his gun and fires...
(SFX – gunshot)
NARRATOR: The sound of Perry’s shot makes Charlie tense up.
(SFX – gunshot)
NARRATOR: He accidentally pulls the trigger, shooting Joe, dead -- Charlie can’t believe what he’s done...
(SFX – sting)
NARRATOR: Equally shocked, seeing his friend’s body crumple to the ground, Steve stops himself from screaming and instead takes off, running up the road, away from danger.
(SFX – running)
NARRATOR: Perry finally makes it to the fence.
PERRY: Charlie, stop him!
NARRATOR: But Charlie is kneeling over Joe’s body in a semi-state of shock. It’s not that he’s never killed anyone before in cold blood, it’s that he’s never done it on accident. He misses Steve hauling ass up the street…At the hedgerow, Perry’s on the other side of the fence, pointing.
PERRY: Charlie!
NARRATOR: Charlie finally shakes it off. He gets to his feet and hurries after Steve, who has a considerable head start.
(SFX – traffic sounds)
NARRATOR: Steve emerges from the shadows of the residential neighborhood into a bustling intersection. He stops on the sidewalk, urgently analyzing his means of escape – there’s a taxi cabs across the street.
(SFX – car horns)
NARRATOR: Darting into traffic, Steve runs across the road. It’s a dangerous excursion as fast driving cars honk and slam on their brakes to avoid hitting him -- Steve makes it to the other side and steals the cab from a couple taking too long to get in.
(SFX – car door closed)
NARRATOR: Throwing himself in the seat, Steve slams the door closed...
STEVE: Drive!
NARRATOR: The cab driver turns back, giving a shitty look.
CAB DRIVER: This ain’t a movie, asshole. I need an address.
STEVE: Pearl street station, go!
NARRATOR: The cab speeds off. Out the window, Steve sees Charlie trying to make it across the street to the cab, but he’s too late.
(SFX – subway sounds)
NARRATOR: Steve sits in a nearly empty train car, still reeling from the unfortunate series of events that have led him to this moment. Across from him, he catches a glimpse of himself in the window. He doesn't like who he sees staring back at him…But in the reflection, he notices his backpack at his feet. Steve tears into it, hoping the spoils that cost his friend’s life were worth it.
(SFX – papers flipping)
NARRATOR: Flipping through the files from Herbert Hill’s safe, there seems to be nothing of real importance or value…That leaves the mysterious box from the secret compartment. Steve carefully sets it on his lap, it could be anything.
(SFX – cardboard box open)
NARRATOR: Delicately unfolding the flaps, he opens it...inside is a mason jar, nestled in old wood wool and paper shreds, used as packing material. Steve holds up the jar, inside about 5 ounces of clear liquid. On the side of the jar are hash-marks, with different years written, going all the way back to 1929…Shaking his head, Steve feels a devastated defeat in the pit of his stomach. This robbery cost him so much more than what it yielded…Just then, his phone VIBRATES.
(SFX – phone vibrates)
NARRATOR: Jane is calling...he doesn’t answer.
(SFX – city sounds)
NARRATOR: Steve walks up the street towards the Balian’s strip club. As he reaches the door, he notices the bouncer’s stool out front is suspiciously empty.
(MUSIC – dance track)
NARRATOR: Inside, there’s an ominous vibe. Loud music blasting, but no dancers on stage, no customers. Steve has a really bad feeling about this, but something pulls him further inside…At the bar, a cell phone sits, vibrating with a text.
(SFX – phone vibrates)
NARRATOR: The young bartender it belongs to is nowhere to be found.
(SFX – sting)
NARRATOR: Instinct is telling Steve to go…but he doesn’t. And further into the club, he stumbles onto something grizzly…In the back-office Steve stands frozen, looking at a scene right out of horror movie. Blood-soaked bodies litter the floor…Arman Balian, the bouncer, the bartender, the dancers, the customers, all herded in like cattle and shot execution-style…And the office has been tossed. From the looks of it all, this just went down…Steve quickly retreats. Running from danger.
(SFX – city sounds)
NARRATOR: Back in the safety of his neighborhood, Steve briskley walks home from the train. Every pedestrian, passing car, and noise in his immediate area, makes him react…He jumps when his phone buzzes.
(SFX – phone vibrates)
NARRATOR: Jane’s calling again. This time, he decides to answer.
STEVE: (into phone) Yeah, hello.
JANE: (over phone) Where are you?
STEVE: I’m almost home...
NARRATOR: But as Steve rounds the corner, nearing their building, he sees that the windows to Jane’s apartment are dark, but notices the unmistakable glow of flashlights looking around, inside.
(SFX – sting)
STEVE: (into phone) Wait, where are you?
JANE: (over phone) I’m in Brooklyn, at St. Michael’s. There’s no cancer support group here, Steve.
STEVE: (into phone) Please, stay put, I’m coming to you.
(MUSIC – church organ)
NARRATOR: Jane is seated in a pew near the back of a large Catholic church. She holds her cross in her hand as she prays. Steve, still nervous he’s being followed, slinks into the row behind her, his head on a swivel.
STEVE: I’m sorry, I lied.
NARRATOR: Jane crosses herself and turns to Steve.
JANE: This is not acceptable. I told you I don’t want to be in a relationship like this.
STEVE: You’re right, and I want to be completely honest with you. But we need to talk somewhere else.
JANE: Whatever you have to say, can and should be said in the presence of God.
NARRATOR: Steve takes a moment, trying to figure out a way to fess up to all that’s happened and not scare Jane off.
STEVE: This second chance I’ve been given, it’s important. You’re important. The thought of coming this far just to lose it...Insurance isn’t gonna cover any of my treatments.
JANE: Why didn’t you tell me?
STEVE: I thought I could fix the problem.
JANE: Steve, what did you do?
STEVE: I took a job. It was supposed to be easy, but everything went wrong...but the less you know about it, the better.
NARRATOR: Steve takes a haggard breath, struggling to keep it together as Jane emotionally distances herself more and more each second.
STEVE: Jane, I love you.
JANE: Don’t.
NARRATOR: She gathers her things and stands.
STEVE: Wait, please...you can’t go. There were people at the apartment looking for me. It’s not safe. At least not tonight.
NARRATOR: Having heard enough, Jane storms off. Steve hurries after her, catching her at the door. As he grabs her by the arm. She pulls from his grip.
STEVE: Let go of me!
STEVE: You have every right to be mad.
NARRATOR: Hearing the commotion, a priest emerges from the rectory, approaching.
PRIEST: Is everything alright?
STEVE: Yeah, thanks, everything’s fine.
PRIEST: Ma’am, is this man bothering you?
NARRATOR: Jane hesitates. Steve begs her with his eyes.
JANE: I’m fine. Thank you, Father.
NARRATOR: Steve waits a moment while the Priest goes back to whatever it was he was doing.
STEVE: I’ve made mistakes I can’t take back. But I’m fighting for my future, an honest one.
NARRATOR: Jane rolls her eyes and tries to walk away. Steve gets in her way again.
STEVE: That being said, we need to find somewhere to stay. Tomorrow, if you never want to speak to me again, I get it. But tonight, I need to know you’re safe.
(MUSIC – tense)
NARRATOR: At Enzo’s place...the dagger, the files, and the box with the water are all laid out on the table. Enzo and Steve stand over them, quietly conferring. Jane watches from the couch in the living room. She’s distant, removed, doesn’t want to be there.
ENZO: That’s terrible about Joe. Now they’re after you?
STEVE: The Balian’s must have given my name before they were killed.
ENZO: And this, Hill, he’s connected?
STEVE: I don’t know who he is or who he knows, but less than an hour after I get away, there’s a club full of dead people.
ENZO: Then there must be something here that’s really valuable.
NARRATOR: Enzo picks up the dagger, closely inspecting it.
ENZO: These old relics can look like a bad piece from the bazaar, but this coulda been the knife that killed Caesar. Let me inquire with some folks I know, see what it’s worth.
NARRATOR: He puts the dagger down and rifles through files.
ENZO: Maybe you can use this stuff as leverage.
STEVE: I need money, not a bargaining chip.
NARRATOR: Finally, Enzo goes for the box, pulling out the mason jar. He holds it up to the light.
ENZO: What the fuck is that?
NARRATOR: Steve shrugs, so Enzo unscrews the lid, smelling the liquid inside. He goes to a drawer and pulls out a package of test strips.
STEVE: What is that?
ENZO: Test for foreign chemicals.
NARRATOR: Using a dropper, Enzo sucks up a drop of liquid, putting on a strip. Jane, listening the entire time, sits up, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s going on. But her anger towards Steve keeps her from wanting to join in…A moments later, the strip hasn’t changed color. Enzo hands it to Steve, who doesn’t understand the result.
ENZO: It’s…water.
STEVE: That can’t be. This was in a secret compartment in a wall safe.
ENZO: So, try some.
NARRATOR: Jane finally chimes in...
JANE: Don’t do that. You don’t know what it is. Don’t be stupid.
ENZO: It’s not poison. But I gotta say, I’m intrigued.
NARRATOR: He defers to Steve, who grabs the dropper, extracting less than a teaspoon of water. Looking past Enzo at Jane, she shakes her head, disapproving. But he needs to figure out why someone would kill for this…Steve hesitates a moment, then squeezes the bulb, emptying the liquid into his mouth. He gulps it down. It takes a moment for his taste buds to relay the information to his brain…His mouth contorts.
STEVE: Yep, it’s water. Tastes clean, fresh.
ENZO: Maybe Hill got some Chinatown thing going. Remember, with Nicholson. It’s all about the water.
NARRATOR: Jane stands, having had enough of this nonsense.
JANE: Is there somewhere I can get some sleep? All I want is for this night to be over.
ENZO: You can have the spare bedroom. Down the hall, on the left.
NARRATOR: She storms away. Steve pushes past Enzo, after her.
STEVE: Jane, wait.
NARRATOR: But before he can apologize more, she slams the bedroom door.
(SFX – door slams)
NARRATOR: Defeated, Steve staggers to the couch, flopping down. Enzo sits in his recliner, with a heroin kit laid out on a TV tray in front of him, preparing to shoot up.
ENZO: She’ll come around.
STEVE: When we were kids, fucking up in such spectacular fashion didn’t seem so severe. I mean, short of going to prison...But this feels like the walls are closing in. Like there’s nothing else in front of me.
ENZO: Don’t they say, when God closes a door, he opens a window or some shit? Right?
NARRATOR: Steve shakes his head, not believing that. Then, Enzo leans forward.
ENZO: I meant to ask, what’s with the...scar on her face?
STEVE: She was married to some piece of shit. He’d hit the bottle, then her, or worse. She finally had enough and tried to leave.
ENZO: Damn. What happened to him?
STEVE: Probably dead by now. But she’s had to carry his trouble every day since...And here I am, doing the same in a different way. I betrayed her trust, put her in danger. She deserves better.
ENZO: What you’re doing it’s in the name of survival.
STEVE: And look how well that’s worked...This is not how I want my life to end. Powerless, wasting away from some stupid goddamn cancer.
ENZO: How do you want it to end?
STEVE: Closing my eyes, and drifting off into a dream where I finally get what I want...
ENZO: I hear that. Going towards the light, peaceful. That’s what I want. Bathing in euphoria and not coming back.
NARRATOR: Done cooking his heroin, Enzo siphons the drugs from the spoon into a needle. He offers some to Steve.
STEVE: I’ve got enough problems as it is.
NARRATOR: Enzo takes his glasses off and holds the needle in his mouth while he ties his arm to get a vein to rise. Steve turns away, not wanting to watch Enzo shoot up. He focuses his attention on the glass jar on the kitchen table.
(MUSIC – curious)
NARRATOR: Later...Enzo’s passed out in the recliner. Steve sits at the kitchen table. He hypnotically watches the light reflect off the water in the jar. He’s captivated by it, a radiance in the liquid he can’t take his eyes off of. Unable to wrap his mind around the mystery of why it was, where it was. He picks up the box, inspecting it. He notices a postmark: Immokalee, Florida, 1929.
(SFX – sting)
NARRATOR: Digging a little further, Steve carefully sifts through the packing material...At the bottom of the box, tucked under one of the folds, is a small, clear plastic sleeve, like for baseball cards…Inside, a sliver of frayed, yellowed paper. On closer examination it appears to be a torn piece from what looks like a hand-drawn MAP, with a shape indicating a geographical feature. Written below the feature in faded pencil is part of a word: R-D-A-N.
(SFX – pain surge)
NARRATOR: Steve suddenly feels intense pain in his chest, about the spot where the masses are in his lungs. It’s enough to make him blurt out...
STEVE: Oh…Jesus.
NARRATOR: But the pain mysteriously subsides. Steve focuses his attention back on the jar. He stuffs the card sleeve back in and starts to repack the box -- but the intense pain returns...
(SFX – pain surge)
STEVE: Oh…Jesus Christ.
NARRATOR: He abandons the table, rushing to the couch. He crashes, gripping his chest...The pain is unbearable. He closes his eyes and concentrates.
(SFX – sting)
NARRATOR: Steve, doing the trick that helped in prison, he’s deep in his imagination, standing at a mountain overlook. The wind whips through his hair.
(SFX – sting)
NARRATOR: In the real world, Steve’s on the couch, filling his mind with peaceful thoughts as he tries to escape the searing pain in his chest...A sudden coughing fit comes on…
(Steve coughs)
NARRATOR: His eyes remain closed as he tries to settle in for a long night.
(SFX – sting)
NARRATOR: To be continued…
(MUSIC – Outro)
NARRATOR: For more killer content, subscribe or go to https: www.NocturnumCollective.com